“Of this Vicaria, the loss of time and money you have suffered is only one of the fruits, I think.” “All I know is, they made my life hell for more than a month; and if I have ever the misfortune to invent any thing more, I'll keep it to myself. I'll hide it, like any other crime. But no; I never will invent another thing: never, never.” “Stuff! Methinks I hear a duck abjure natation. You can't help inventing.” “I will help it. What, do you think I'll be such an ass as to have Brains in a country where Brains are a crime? Doctor, I'm in despair.” “Then it is time to cast your eyes over this little picture.” The inventor turned the little picture listlessly about. “It is a woman, with an anchor. It's a figure of Hope.” “Beautifully painted, is it not?” “The tints are well laid on: but, if you'll excuse me, it is rather flat.” He laid the picture down, and turned away from it. “Ah, Hope, my lass, you've come to the wrong shop.” “Not she. She was painted expressly for you, and by a very beautiful girl.” “Oh, doctor, not by--” “Yes; she sends it you.” “Ah!” And he caught Hope up, and began to devour her with kisses, and his eyes sparkled finely. “I have some good news, too, for you. Mr. Carden tells me he never intended to separate you entirely from his daughter. If you can be moderate, discreet, old before your time, etc., and come only about once a week, and not compromise her publicly, you will be as welcome as ever.” “That IS good news, indeed. I'll go there this very day; and I'll patent the circular saw.” “There's a non-sequitur for you!” “Nothing of the kind, sir. Why, even the Queen's go-betweens will never daunt me, now I can go and drink love and courage direct from HER eyes; and nothing can chill nor discourage me now. I'll light my forge again and go to work, and make a few sets of carving-tools, and that will pay the go-betweens for patenting my circular-saw grinder. But first I'll put on my coat and go to heaven.” “Had you not better postpone that till the end of your brilliant career as an inventor and a lover?” “No; I thirst for heaven, and I'll drink it.” So he made his toilet, thanked and blessed the good doctor, and off to Woodbine Villa.